Birthday cake
by Enide Dear
Summary: Vincent has a sweet tooth and Cid is happy to oblige to it. But he might have gone a bit too far this time.


Title: Birthday cake

Author: Enide Dear

Rating: Nc - 17 for some cussing and some (failed) sex. And more cussing

Pairing: Cid/Vincent, doh!

Summary: Its Vincent's birthday and Cid makes a cake in his own way

Authors' note: Drabble, really

Feedback: Will be adored and squeed over

Muses: Foolish Coconut Productions and UltraMega OK

Vincent had a sweet tooth; it was kind of an unofficial secret amongst Avalanche. Everyone knew about it, but they all choose to ignore it. It was just too damned difficult to get your mind around the sight of a looming, dark and lethal ex-Turk light up like a child if he got within sight of a candy store or bakery and then rush off only to return with pockets stuffed with chocolate which he then munched on rather loudly – probably the only time anyone would ever complain that Vincent was too loud. Cid was the only one who could even look at Vincent if the dark man had got a hold of an ice cream or a lollipop. Of course, Cid might have entirely different thoughts when he saw red wet lips slurping over candy sticks. The way those blue eyes blazed, those steady hands shook, and the way he almost walked straight into a tree indicated that it might be so.

Very eager and curious, Vincent hurried up to the room he shared with Cid; he'd been told in no uncertain terms to 'stay the fuck out of the room for one hour' as Cid had 'something special' to prepare. His life as a hitman had not made him very keen on surprises of any kind, but Cid had changed that as he had so much else in Vincent's life. Cid's surprises were always thoughtful, funny and extremely kinky. Vincent had approved of each and all of them, even the one with the feathers, studs and the red rubber ball, although that one made the rest of Avalanche decide to change Inn in the middle of the night.

He took one deep breath outside the room to steady himself, and then opened it slowly.

The room was in semi-dark, the shutters closed but there were candles burning everywhere, spreading a warm glow over the worn room and giving a golden gleam to Cid's naked skin. Vincent's breath caught. He knew – very well – just how agile the pilot was, but how he'd managed to handcuff himself feet and hands to the bedposts, Vincent would never know. The keys, however, were on the nightstand. They didn't want to repeat *that* mistake any time soon. Steely, sinewy muscles moved as Cid turned towards him and grinned and lights flashed on his silver nipple studs.

"Hey there, handsome," he drawled. "Come here often?"

"I will from now on," Vincent murmured back, tracing up Cid's thigh with a steel claw that made the pilot shiver eagerly.

"There's something else, Vince. Look over there." He nodded to a small table next to the bed and Vincent's eyes got huge. There were bowls of whipped cream, of honey and chocolate and even one small one with strawberries.

"What - ?" he gasped.

"It's yer birthday, Vince. I thought we'd make a cake." Cid grinned wickedly.

Vincent turned, frowning.

"How do you know of it's my birthday? Not even I know what day that is."

Cid rolled his eyes.

"So ya don't know, it might be today, right? I just wanted to give ya something special."

Vincent smiled, stirring the honey with a finger and then sucking it off, slowly and noisily. Cid licked his lips at the sight.

"You are right." Vincent purred, going over to the bed and starting to drip honey over Cid's chest, leaning over to lick it off, which made Cid groan. On the very edge of their attention they could hear however in Avalanche that had the room next to theirs sigh and leave it, wise by now to the signs of a noisy night ahead.

Cream followed honey, smearing against pecs and abs and thighs, and a bit into Cid's mouth as they kissed, and then chocolate on neck and fingers and groin, and strawberries being noisily consumed, shared between them. Exited, enthusiastic and perhaps confusing his two hungers a bit two much, Vincent poured every pot on Cid's body, tossing the empty bowls away and leaning over to suck and lick it away.

"Carefully there, Vince, no need to over do it…" But Cid's words of caution was lost on Vincent, far to filled up with the tastes of his two addictions to heed anything. Starting at Cid's feet, he decided to work up this vast and wonderful expanse of skin and delights. And Cid wasn't really complaining, not as long as Vincent's clever tongue was everywhere on him, lips sucking at his skin, hands caressing him all over.

But there was a distinct slack in the ex-Turks speed, his licks was becoming laboured and slow, and his panting was soon less horny than…

"Cid….Cid, I'm absolutely full." Vincent leaned over him on the bed, at least half of Cid still covered in sticky, sweet goo. The dark man had honey in his hair, cream on his cheek and chocolate on his neck. He'd make a wondrous sight, if he hadn't been almost green with sick.

"What?" Cid was still painfully aroused and this was not the plan.

"I don't think I can do this." Vincent swallowed convulsively a few times, looking decidedly ill. "I might have overestimated myself a bit."

"A bit? A bit? Well, I can tell ya just what 'bit', to!" Cid thrashed in his bonds. "C'm on Vince," he whined, "just a few more licks!"

"I can't Cid! I'd throw up all over you!" He fell down on the bed next to Cid, clutching his belly. "Gods, it's aching!" he moaned.

"Ya can't just leave me like this, ya bastard! I'm all sticky, and horny as Hell, and I'm getting damned cold to!"

Vincent managed to roll over, retrieve the key and unlock Cid, who stamped out of the room to find the shower. A short, high pitched scream was cut short and turned into helpless laughter and swearing, indicating that the shower had already been occupied by Tifa, and that the shock of being seen naked by the pilot was more than made up by the sight of a distracted Cid naked, half covered in dripping sweets and probably still very aroused.

When the pilot finally came back and flopped into bed, Vincent had recovered enough to be embarrassed that he had spoiled Cid's present, but not enough to do much about it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, still clutching his belly.

"Yeah, well, so am I." Cid lit a cigarette, something he never did in bed otherwise, and Vincent couldn't bring himself to be mad about it.

"I'll make it up to you."

"How?"

"Well," Vincent turned around and draped himself over Cid's chest, looking up at him with big, red, innocent-seeming eyes. "You know that thing you've wanted to do? And it's your birthday next week, isn't it?"

And to that Cid's grin threatened to cleave of the top of his head.


End file.
